“Is it vaginal enough?”
Boom! Right at the moment you hear that line uttered at around the 10-minute mark of the pilot episode, you immediately realize that by watching the Netflix series Russian Doll you are taking part in a pop culture subversion. And what is it trying to destroy? Our fake politeness, onion-skinned sensitivity, and witless stabs at humor.
We will put this in the context of our life on social media right now: the grand irony happening is that while the initial idea of social media was to open smart conversations and accept diverse opinions, the complete opposite happened. Dumb happened. So now the guys running the platforms have had to put in more restrictions than a damn Constitution, because we can’t handle it.
To get more likes we have to be super polite; previously non-existent terms like “filter bubbles” and “echo chambers” have had to be invented for what is basically listening to people who’ll only agree with you. If you have to be funny, you take a potshot calculated to annoy someone, anyone. And if you were the target of such, you post boohoo for emotional support. The art of the well-crafted retort has died. If you are currently employed as a troll, you were briefed on how to craft dumb by your Human Resources department.
Let’s get back to the object being questioned for its genital-ness: a light-art installation by the door of a toilet in a New York apartment that looks like a cross between a portal to a parallel universe and a vulva. Yes, vaginal lips. The toilet is the takeoff point of the whole Russian Doll plot, about a woman, Nadia Vulvokov (is the name vaginal enough?), who on her 36th birthday dies over and over again Groundhog Day-style and has to figure out what is happening. Russian Doll then plows through thoughts on mortality, choices, parallel lives in parallel universes (really), and marijuana laced with ketamine (yes, really).
You see how all these elements are framed in just a mouthful of words? If Russian Doll doesn’t make you smarter you were never smart to begin with. “Is it vaginal enough?” isn’t even a line delivered by the main character herself but by one of her best friends Maxine, an artist, which tells you that Russian Doll is peopled by truly snappy, offbeat characters. For the entire eight-episode first season run, Nadia (played by Natasha Lyonne of Orange Is The New Black) will take control of the series with her acid wit. Here is a sample, right off the pilot:
“I mean I get it, right? I’m single and I choose to foster a pet, so it must be a pathetic attempt to fill the hole in my soul that would otherwise be filled with what? A penis? No, thanks. I’m full up.”
Yeah! Delivered like punk rock! By a woman who would probably take a shot at a feminist if she engaged, because it’s fun. And also because her brain is equipped to say it. How equipped? Natasha Lyonne, apart from acting in it, created and wrote the show with two other women. We would advise you to keep the captions on because you will want to take notes when you binge-watch, because Russian Doll gives us back a taste of what it was like when snark and political incorrectness were used as a weapon to combat dumb. If we all knew how to deliver it, we’d all be A-list standup comedians on social media. The trolls would be out of a job.